


Not Just Another Birthday

by cmlanning



Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27706172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmlanning/pseuds/cmlanning
Summary: It's Lara's birthday, and while she's in a bitter mood, Harry Dresden might just be able to do something about that. Story takes place after Battle Ground
Relationships: Harry Dresden/Lara Raith
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34





	Not Just Another Birthday

It was a pleasant enough morning as I sat out on the back patio drinking a French expresso that cost more than most folks make in a month. Being a Raith has its advantages. My eyes lingered on the steam drifting off my breakfast. 

Glancing at today’s copy of _The Chicago Tribune,_ I smiled as an alderman had been implicated in a tax fraud scheme. His replacement had been my choosing. 

“Mayor Lori Lightfoot has selected entrepreneur Elisa Raith to serve the remaining seven months of Higgins’ term,” I read aloud, smiling with every word. 

_Welcome to politics, dear sister_ , I thought, knowing she would give me the deciding vote on several property developments that had been held up for the past weeks. After the battle a couple months ago, the city council had been skittish about approving some of my rezonings and developments. That wouldn’t be a problem now. 

I heard the sliding glass door on the deck open and sighed. 

“Lady Raith?” one of the newer bodyguards asked, cautiously. His name was Dillon, a fresh recruit who had resigned from the Detroit Police Department a couple months ago. He was a great shot but a little fidgety in his new home here. 

“Yes, Dillon?” I sighed, folding up the newspaper and taking a drink of my expresso. 

“You have a visitor,” he said, clearing his throat. 

Great. I didn’t want to see anyone today. Until I’d come out here to read the paper, I’d been in a fairly pissy mood. I liked to pretend today didn’t exist, even after all these centuries. 

“I’m fairly certain I told everyone there would be no visitors approved today,” I growled, my grey eyes glowing a bit as I turned to face Dillon. 

“Right! I’m sorry, Lady Raith. But it’s. . . your-”

“My what?” I barked, interrupting him. 

“Your fiancé,” he choked out, straightening up. 

That came as a surprise. I was expecting the visitor to be one of my cousins or one of Marcone’s men who seemed to be appearing more often lately. 

“Lady Raith?” Dillon’s words came in a near whisper and brought me back to reality. Behind me, a bluejay started to pipe up in the garden. 

“Send Harry in,” I said, looking back at my expresso. “And bring a Coke out here.” 

He nodded and then stepped back through the doorway. A few moments later, the lumbering wizard showed up in a tattered coat. At least he’d remembered to shave this morning. 

Clouds parted overhead, and the light lengthened his shadow across the oak patio toward my table. 

“Lady Raith,” he said, smiling in a somewhat mocking tone. 

I sighed. If he was here with his usual bullshit, I wasn’t in the mood for it. I wasn’t even sure why I let him enter in the first place. 

A couple months ago, Queen Mab had engaged the two of us, against our will. I’d sought closer relations with the Winter Court, but I didn’t want them like this. At least, I was pretty sure I didn’t. 

“What can I do for you, Harry?” I asked, taking another sip of my drink. 

Before Harry could answer, Dillon came over to the table with a cold can of Coke, condensation dripping down the side. 

“Is that for me?” Harry asked, like the idiot he mostly was. 

“Well, I have a drink, Harry. And Dillon is going back to his shift as fast as possible. So do the math,” I said, my irritation for my betrothed growing. 

He came over and sat down across from me, towering over me even sitting in a green metal chair. 

Opening the can and taking a drink, Harry said, “Thanks. . . sweetie.” 

I glared at him. 

“Don’t you dare call me that again,” I hissed. 

Harry smiled, and we sat that in an uncomfortable silence for a moment. 

“What do you want, Harry?” I asked. 

His caramel eyes locked with mine. And his smile only grew. 

“I just came to drop off a gift for the birthday girl,” he said. 

I nearly fell out of my chair, which, admittedly, I hated myself for immediately. How could he have possibly known? I steeled myself before I answered. 

“How did you figure that out?” I asked. 

“I had an inside source help me out,” Harry said, reaching into his coat of seemingly infinite pockets and pulling out an envelope. 

Slowly, he slid it across the table. 

I didn’t know how to react, so I did what came naturally. I mocked him and/or deflected. 

“Honestly, Harry. A gift certificate to Burger King? You’ve outdone yourself,” I said. 

The smile didn’t leave his face. 

“Oh please. I know you better than that. My fiancé is a Wendy’s gal,” he said. 

That did get a chuckle out of me. He was wrong, of course. If I was eating fast food, which I didn’t do often given how many chefs I had access to, I preferred Popeye’s. Not that I’d let Harry know that. 

I opened the envelope and found three pages of notes. It was Harry’s sloppy handwriting, no doubt. Before we tied the knot, I would compel him to attend a calligraphy class or two. I had the ability to do it. 

A closer look at the chicken scratch, and I saw this was a letter. And though Harry had written it and delivered it, he was not the author. 

My heart began to beat faster when I realized the letter was from Thomas. I was breathing hard, and normally I hated for others to see me do that, but I couldn’t help myself here. 

I glared at the man that would supposedly put a ring on my finger one day. 

“You dare mock me with a fake correspondence, wizard? Even for a prank from you, this is a new level of foolish,” I seethed. Maybe he wouldn’t survive until the wedding after all. 

Harry slowly put his hands up, and said, “Calm down, Lara. Those are Thomas’ words. I penned them last night on the island.” 

I shook my head. 

“You said he was imprisoned and no longer suffering,” I said, my pulse still racing. 

The wizard nodded. 

“That’s right. But I can communicate with any of the island’s prisoners. Last night, I spoke to Thomas, and he dictated that letter, told me it was your 402nd birthday today,” he explained. 

I listened to his heartbeat. It was calm. He wasn’t lying. 

“Why would you do this for me?” I asked. 

Harry took a drink of his Coke and leaned back slowly in his chair. 

“Because I’m tired, Lara.” he sighed. 

Shaking my head, I raised an eyebrow. His words made no sense. 

“Listen, I’ve lost a lot of people I care about. Some more than others,” he said, his eyes flashing a moment of vulnerability. I knew who he was referring to. Women who got involved with Harry had a habit of dying terribly. 

Was he being sincere? Was this a ploy to manipulate me by using the one weakness he knew I had? Surely he wasn’t naive enough to just show up and offer such a gift for the hell of it. 

I thought back to right after Harry imprisoned my brother on his island. I acted in a fury and sought to kill him. When he spoke afterward, Harry showed me a genuine side of himself. I’d thought differently of him since. 

“Lara, listen, I don’t know what you’ve been thinking about all this marriage nonsense Mab pushed on us. But, regardless of whether we do end up taking the vows, I’ve come to the conclusion that maybe having you as a close ally wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” Harry said. 

“You know exactly what ever girl wants to hear, Harry,” I said, squinting at the wizard. 

He took another sip of his Coke. 

“What I’m trying to say is, I’m tired of keeping you at an arm’s length. I do. . . want to get to know you better. I want to get to a place where I can trust you for more than you just wanting to see Thomas again,” he said. 

I looked down at the letter and took a deep breath, about to say something stupid, I was sure. 

“I’m not opposed to that, Harry,” I said. 

We stared at each other for a moment, and he smiled again. 

“Great. I’ll leave you to it, then. I’m sure you have big festivities planned for today,” he said, about to stand up. 

I grabbed his coat sleeve before he was out of the chair. 

“You could. . . stay, if you want,” I said. 

We locked eyes again, and he quietly nodded. Taking a seat again, he finished his Coke while I read the letter. 

I hated it, but I let a tear slide down my cheek in his view. 

“Happy birthday, Lara,” Harry said, softly. 

I glanced at him and smiled.


End file.
